Letting Go
by cutiereader968
Summary: Daphne did something horrible. Something no one, not even Daphne herself, can forgive. All she wants to do is forget. Too bad everyone around her insists on making her remember. My first Daphne/Mustardseed story. A nice dash of Puckabrina for those who like them. T for some violence later on.
1. Tears

**This is going to sound really depressing and angst-ridden at first, but trust me, things will get happier. This is loosely based off of a movie I just watched. Please review and tell me if you think I should continue!**

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_I should have saved her._

"It's not your fault."

"Please, don't feel guilty, Daph!"

_I could have saved her. _

"It wasn't something you could control."

_But it was. It was _all _up to me. My fault. _

"Daphne, don't cry."

_What else can I do? She's gone. Forever. And I'm the one who decided to kill her. _

"I have to go." Dark, smooth hair covered her pale face.

No one questioned her. No one dared. They all knew what would happen—she would break down again. She wouldn't stop crying for hours; she wouldn't let anyone in; then again, no one really _wanted _in.

She caught her reflection in the mirror as she walked up the wooden steps. _Murderer, _it seemed to scream at her. _You are nothing but a killer. _

_I didn't mean to! _She screamed at the voices in her head, falling to her knees halfway up the steps. _I never wanted this! It was the right thing to do! I was doing what was best for everyone! _

Tears leaked from the corners of her chocolate-colored eyes, running unabashedly down her cheeks and ripping off her small chin into her lap. Wasn't there a time when one simply ran out of the water used to supply tears? It didn't seem to apply to her; she'd been crying for a week straight. And the tears came, every time, but at least they were consistent.

She knew her family was trying to make the best of the situation. Trying to calm her and show her affection. But she could see it—in their mouths, eyes, even in the way they walked. She could see their resentment towards her. They tried to hide it, but it was there. And the pain cut her sharply like a knife.

_I don't deserve to live. Not after I took another person's life. _

Suddenly, everything was clear. Clearer than it had ever been before. She felt free, even though her whole body seemed to know she should feel weighed-down with blame. That didn't matter anymore. She knew what she had to do. Taking one shaky step, and then another, she made her way toward the bathroom—to the medicine cabinet.

She peered at herself one last time in the round mirror hung above the sink. Her eyes were almost black, and her irises were wide and damp. Her face was gaunt; the color of pure snow. Her lips were chapped and broken.

_Maybe this is going too far…? _A hesitant voice in the corner of her mind stopped her in her tracks.

_Too far? She killed someone! This is the only way. _

It was like on those old cartoons she used to love so much—the character had a tiny angel on one shoulder, and a devil on another. Both pointing out something that they thought was right; and always causing the person a considerable amount of confusion.

But this was one thing she was sure of. If nothing else, _this _was something she could do. Something to redeem herself with.

One trembling hand reached up for the silver handle of the oak cabinet holding her Granny's and parent's pills and syrups. The door creaked open slowly, and little plastic bottles sat on every one of the four shelves. She was overwhelmed by the variety.

_I might as well pick something pretty. _

If the situation had been any different, she might have laughed at herself. But it wasn't; this was how everything was going to end. Instead of a laugh, a gurgling sob rose up through her throat and pushed out her mouth.

"Water," she mumbled to herself, "I need water." She grasped for the cool, brass Hot and Cold water adjusters. In the next second, she was pouring ice-cold water into a plastic cup. It filled to the brim; neat and perfect, just liked her sister would have liked.

"This is it," she plucked a handful of bright pink pills for stomach cramps, and set them in front of her; each one contrasting brightly against the white counter. She took a slow, deliberate sip of the water, letting it cool her irritated throat. Oddly enough, she felt rather at peace. _Maybe I'm already dead. Maybe this is a dream…or a nightmare._

"I hope this will be enough." Her hand had already stopped shaking; she was over her nerves. The pills glistened in her pastel hands, like drops of light blood. She tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and dropped exactly six of them in.

Then, like a boulder, something smashed against her back, sending the now-moistened pills to the floor. _Is this was dying feels like? I didn't know it would hurt so much._

She was suddenly coughing up water, gagging; gasping for air. _I'm not dead. I didn't get a chance to swallow the pills! _

She whipped around, clutching her stomach in agony; and looked straight into a pair of light grey eyes.

_No! Mustardseed! He saw me!_

"What the _heck _are you _doing_?" he shouted, slamming the lid sloppily back on the bottle of tablets.

"I was—"

He didn't let her finish, "Why were you putting those into your _mouth_, Daphne?" his eyes were devoid of their usual lightness; instead, they were filled with pure rage, "Don't you know they could _kill _you?"

"I….I knew…" she said meekly, unable to look him in the eye. She felt small and vulnerable in his anger. It scared her more than she cared to admit.

He seemed to physically react at her words. His huge fist hit the shower curtain; not making any sound, but it unnerved her nonetheless. He was _livid_.

"Explain." His voice was abruptly cold.

"I don't have anything to explain."

He took a step toward her, and she backed away. Two more backward steps, and she was trapped by the tile wall. Her fingers pressed against the cool surface, even as her face turned beet red at his intense gaze.

"You have a lot to explain, Daphne. Start with telling me why you just tried to _kill _yourself."

Something flared up inside her, something that hadn't been present in her since that horrific day two weeks ago.

"Fine. I'll tell you why." Her own voice was low and cool, "I wanted to die because that's the only way I can make things up to everyone. The only thing that can repay for what I've done to the people I love."

"That wouldn't have—"

She went ahead, ignoring his interruption, "It was for Granny. For Uncle Jake. For Mom, and Dad. And it was for _you_. I was doing it all for you!" the emotions she'd tried so hard to hold back in front of him, came pouring out, "How could I let you look at me after what I did? How can you not see me as a murderer? How…?" she was angry at him for messing up her perfect plan.

"You are _not _any of those things! Do you really think—"

"Mustardseed," she gazed at him, at his earnest eyes, feeling her heart rip out, "I killed my own sister. And I did it on purpose."

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**Like it? Please, leave some feedback. Next chapter will explain everything. Trust me, Daphne isn't a bad person.**


	2. Surprises of Many Sizes

**Okay, so maybe it won't explain everything. But here it is! Sorry if it's rushed, I just wanted to get this chapter over with! Oh, and read at the bottom for a little contest I'm having. Hope you enjoy!**

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_One Month Earlier_

"Sabrina!" Daphne yelled, walking through the half-open screen door; she'd just gotten off the bus, and the smell of moldy cheese and B.O. still clung to her clothes, "Sabrina, where are you?"

"Back here," she heard her sister call softly from somewhere outside.

Daphne decided to leave her sister alone for a while. She was always complaining about how annoying and loud everyone in the house was; but that was just Sabrina—if she yelled at you, that only meant she loved you.

The dark-haired girl giggled, throwing her book bag haphazardly on the kitchen table and grabbing herself a juicy, red apple. She knew it was stupid, but she always liked to think of herself as Snow White; no, not the karate teacher she knew; but the Snow White she read about when she was little. The innocent one with the pretty voice, who was saved by her very own handsome prince. And since she had dark, wavy hair, pale skin, and red lips, she was perfect for the part!

"Come on outside, Daphne." Sabrina called; there was something different about her voice, like she was contemplating something.

"Okay," Daphne bit down on the apple and chewed with her mouth half open—very princess-like. Then she licked the juice off her lips and ran outside into the backyard.

"Sabrina, I have to tell you about this—" she stopped dead in her tracks when she took in the sight in front of her.

Sabrina stood still, her head tilted back, letting the breeze lift her hair, almost like it was defying gravity. The sun shone directly on her figure; and, in the light, she looked ethereal, and beautiful. But when she turned to face Daphne, her deep blue eyes were oddly detached.

"What were you going to say?" there was that voice again, like she was pondering something.

Daphne took a small step forward, trying to find her sassy, moody sister in this silent ghost of a body, "It was nothing." She crossed her arms against her chest, feeling suddenly unsure of herself. Something wasn't right; she could feel it in the air, in everything around her.

"Come, sit," Sabrina patted the spot next to her as she dropped to the earth, staring into the forest.

For the longest time, they didn't say anything; only looked at the landscape. It should have been peaceful and relaxing, but to Daphne it felt all wrong. They should be laughing at Puck's stupidity, or trying to figure out what Granny had put in her latest recipe. But they were silent.

"Why did you want me to come out here?" Daphne tried to keep her voice strong and cheerful, but it wobbled and cracked with emotion instead.

Sabrina tilted her head to the side, staring at Daphne with her wide blue eyes; "I wanted to tell the whole family this at once, but I'll tell you first." She stopped, biting lightly on her lower lip, "You know, maybe I shouldn't; you were never very good at keeping secrets."

Daphne breathed in a sigh of relief; her sister was back to normal! "_Tell me_!" she played along, "Tell me _now_!"

"Alright, Daphne," she took a deep breath, smiling, "I'm pregnant!"

Daphne stopped fake-whining, eyes going wide, "…you're…preggers?"

Sabrina laughed, "I am."

"You mean you and Puck…?"

"Yes, me and Puck!" Sabrina blushed, slapping Daphne on the wrist.

Daphne took in her sister's bright eyes and happy smile, "You tricked me!" she accused, "You were all sad and thoughtful when I came out here; you had me worried _sick_! That someone died or something."

"I wasn't faking, I really was thinking about some things." Sabrina, subconsciously, started to rub her flat stomach with her hand, "Like how I'm going to tell Puck…and Dad." The two girls looked at each other in wide-eyed horror.

"I don't have a solution there, Sis. Sorry." Daphne started to crack up, "But that's what you get when you and Puck don't use—"

"When we don't use what?" Puck's familiar voice made the two girls acutely aware of their surroundings.

"When you don't use a lawnmower to cut the grass!" Daphne yelled just as Sabrina shouted, "When we don't use the same toothbrush!"

Puck raised his eyebrows, on the verge of checking them both for a fever; or sprinting back into his Sabrina's add-on to the house.

Last summer, when the two had gotten married, Henry and Jake had worked to build on a little apartment for the couple. Veronica had insisted they move wherever they wanted, but both Puck and Sabrina agreed that they could never leave the quaint little town of Ferryport Landing.

It was small, with three bedrooms, a living room, a family room, and two bathrooms—but it was home.

Finally, Puck decided on staying put; an idea was brewing in his mischievous head, "You just can't get enough of me, can you, Grimm?" he used her last name; a sure sign that things were _not _going to be good for his wife.

Sabrina rolled her eyes, "You were mentioned in passing, melon head—" Daphne had to stifle a giggle at their immaturity, "—don't you dare get too cocky."

Puck scoffed, "I'm sure you talk about me all the time, lard butt!" he tossed back another on-the-spot, insulting nickname, "You schedule when I take showers, when I wake up, when I go to the bath—"

"_Not in front of Daphne!" _Sabrina fairly flew from her peaceful spot on the grass and shoved Puck's shoulder.

"I'm seventeen, Sabrina." Daphne stood and brushed her jeans off, craving another apple, "I'm old enough to hear about his restroom habits." She sent a pointed look at her brother-in-law, thanking him for such a _lovely _topic—if you didn't detect the sarcasm, you need help.

"Daphne, let me handle this!" the couple had been in each other's company for all of five minutes, and they were already fighting. Still, Daphne supposed it was kind of cute. For them.

Puck let out another laugh, "Why's your face all red, Grimm? Do you have a confession to make?"

"_Shut. Up!" _she roared, tackling him mercilessly to the ground. They both landed in a small puddle of mud near the Grimm's pond.

"Look what you did, Puck!" Sabrina cried, flinging mud from her arms into his face.

"Me?" Puck cried indignantly, "You were the one that tackled me like some kind of baboon!"

"Only because you're such an idiot!"

"How am _I _the idiot here?"

"You told my sister that I spy on you in the bathroom!"

Each time one of them raged at the other, they would throw a clump of mud at the offender's face. A minute later, Sabrina's whole face was covered in mud; while Puck's chin-mud dripped down onto his neck and under his shirt.

_And they're going to have a child? _Daphne looked doubtfully at the wresting couple, _That poor kid. _

Suddenly, something dawned on her, "Sabrina!" she hollered, running toward her sister, careful not to step in any offending mud. She, unlike her family, had _some _idea of self-preservation.

"Aren't you going to hurt the—"

Sabrina stopped fighting, looking wide-eyed at her sister; trying to tell her to _shut up_. In that split-second, Puck turned them both off-balance, and they went rolling down the hill; quickly.

"Oh my…" Daphne felt herself panic. _The baby! Didn't I read somewhere that if you put too much pressure on the stomach it could die? Puck didn't know! He…he killed his own baby! All because we didn't tell him! _"I'm coming!" she shouted to no one in particular. Her dark hair flew behind her as she dashed downhill.

"We're okay!" Puck said lightly, not seeming to realize the damage that could have happened to his wife.

Sabrina stood, soaking wet in pond-water, "Robin Goodfellow." Her teeth were clenched, and fire burned in her eyes and out her ears. Literally.

Puck turned sheet pale, "Y-yes?"

"What were you thinking?" she was still calm. But she would burst any second now. Both Daphne and Puck could see that.

"I was thinking we could have some fun!" he retorted, crossing his arms huffily, "Why do you have to get so worked up over small things? Are you mad about your clothes? We can buy you a _whole _new outfit if you're that prissy about it!"

Sabrina looked like she might tear his eyes out with her hands, but then she met Daphne's eyes and her body crumpled. She fell to the wet grass, staring up at Puck.

"Sabrina?" Daphne crouched by her sister, feeling horrible; Sabrina _never _cried. Not even when Snow White had died in Charming's arms. And that scene even made Puck cry, "I'm sure nothing happened." Her hand brushed her sister's hair soothingly, trying to keep her own voice gentle; even as haunting thoughts of what might have happened to the baby entered her mind.

Puck snorted again, even though he looked like he wanted to pick Sabrina up and carry her right back into the house, "Are you really that upset about _clothes?_"

"No, you dunce! It's not about clothes! I'm…" she hesitated, glancing at Daphne for reassurance; the brown-eyed girl nodded, her curls bouncing like springs, "I'm pregnant!" she covered her mouth and cowered back. Her light eyes sparkled with more tears now that the secret had come out, "I'm pregnant! I'm pregnant! I'm pregnant!" she jumped from the ground, spinning in tiny circles, "I'm going to have a baby!"

"Is she on something?" Daphne whispered to Puck, but he wasn't paying attention to her; his eyes were focused on his dancing wife.

"Are you…sure?" he murmured.

"Yes, I'm sure, idiot! I wouldn't lie about such an amazing thing!"

Puck grimaced, "So that means…I just shoved our unborn fetus down a hill…"

"Yeah, kind of." Daphne couldn't resist saying in a snotty tone.

Puck turned to her, smirking, "And you," he advanced toward her, "You didn't feel the need to tell me that before I shoved her down?"

"I tried, but—" Daphne tried to run away, but he caught her by her waist and lifted her onto his shoulder.

"Time to go for a swim!" he sing-songed, winking at Sabrina.

"No, Puck! This is a new shirt!" the pond was right in front her, she was dangling just feet away from a watery demise, "Let me go—"

The water hit her skin like icicles, and she shrieked in pain, "You little bastard!" she cursed, "Get back here! You're gonna pay for that!" wet hair stuck to her face, and her white camisole was suddenly see-though to her black bra.

Sabrina finally made it up the hill, panting, "Daph, are you okay?" she gasped, clutching her stomach.

Puck saluted Daphne with the middle finger, grinned, and swept Sabrina into his arms, "Don't run so fast," his voice was soft, breathing against her ear, "I don't want you to get hurt. And I'm s-s-sorry," he forced out the word, "For pushing you down. I had no idea—"

Her lips met his; shutting him up from his over-protective ramble, "I know." She smiled serenely, and they both felt completely content…

…for all of five seconds, until Daphne threw the pail of water directly at them.

"That's what you get!"

"Get back here, you little runt!"

"Stop it! The baby!"

"Not my problem right now!"

"_Lieblings?" _A soft voice from the top of the hill reached all three of their ears.

Granny Relda was standing with Henry, Veronica, and a stranger beside her, looking completely stunned. Veronica seemed to take that as a hint to carry on the conversation.

"Kids," there was hidden note of if-you-don't-stop-I'll-kill-you tone in her voice, and the three people in question all straightened up, "We have a visitor. It's someone you all know very well."

The stranger stepped out from behind her. Puck's eyebrows shot up, Sabrina gasped, and Daphne covered her see-through cleavage.

There, looking handsome and business-like, was Puck's very own brother—and Daphne's secret but long time crush—Mustardseed.

_This is so embarrassing. I'm covered in water, and he can see my bra. Let me die! Let me faint! Let me—_

His eyes locked onto hers, and she froze.

"Hello, Daphne."

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**Give me feedback! It makes me write faster if I know people like the story.**

**So, I have a little contest here. The first person to review with the right answer to the question below will have me as their personal writer for a one-shot. Tell me what you want it to be about, and I'll write it for you! (As long as it's for the Sisters Grimm). Here's the question:**

**What is my birthstone?**

**a.) Ruby**

**b.) Diamond**

**c.) Emerald**

**d.) Sapphire **

**Review with feedback, and a guess, and you might have your very own requested story written by me! Thanks for all the support. Love you all.**


	3. Who's on Whose Side?

**Another update! Just so you know, I'll be going to camp from Sunday to Friday, so I won't be updating then :( But I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave some feedback!**

**Also, my birthstone is sapphire! September 20th! The person to guess was SabrinaGrimmLover, so look out for your story in a week or so! Read and enjoy.**

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_His eyes locked onto hers, and she froze._

_ "Hello, Daphne."_

::

Puck's mouth was hanging open like a dead fish's, "Mustard…?"

"…seed?" Daphne finished, curling herself into a ball to protect certain _areas _that should not be seen. She mentally threw five daggers at Puck—two in his arms, two in his legs, and one straight in the heart.

_When did I become so violent?_

She snapped out of her thoughts just in time to see Mustardseed push a lock of dark gold hair from his eye. She could tell he was nervous, only because he was twisting his pinky between his thumb and forefinger; a habit he had when under scrutiny. _He's so adorable. _Even though he was clad in a white T-shirt and dark jeans, he still looked Abercrombie-model worthy. _Everything about him is perfect. His mouth, his arms—everything. Why did I ever try to stop falling in love with him…?_

Sabrina cleared her throat, breaking the stunned silence, "I thought you stayed in New York to marry Moth because Puck ditched her."

_Oh, yeah, that's why. _Daphne remembered the sick feeling of dread she'd had when Puck announced that he wasn't bound to Moth anymore—but his younger brother _was. _She'd convinced herself that he wasn't worth it, and then he left. She hadn't seen him in four years, and their parting had not exactly been on good terms.

"Hey!" Puck returned to his normal, arrogant self, "I _did not _'ditch' her. She was a crazy lunatic who tried to kill my future wife! "

"So you threw Mustardseed under the bus?" Daphne shouted before she could stop herself. God, she needed to invest in some kind of filter from her brain to her mouth!

"No! Even _I _wouldn't put anyone through that torture…although it would make a good joke."

Mustardseed smiled, "I volunteered. I knew how much Puck loved Sabrina…and I wanted them to be happy."

Daphne was in danger of swooning from his honest sweetness. Sabrina turned to Puck, smiling; but she was speaking to his brother.

"I'm sorry you had to sacrifice such a huge part of your life just so we could be happy." And, for a moment, she truly did sound saddened by her brother-in-law's fate, but then she brightened again, "But _thank you _for making our future together possible."

_Yeah, and for ruining any chance he and I had together. _Daphne thought sharply, irritated at her sister's happiness.

Henry cleared his throat, and everyone seemed to remember that he, his wife, and his mother were all in the same general area, "I think we might want to head inside."

"What's wrong with being out here?" Veronica nudged her husband in the shoulder.

"Nothing is _wrong_, per say. But my voice is failing me; only for the mere fact that we're yelling at each other from across a hill."

Puck, Sabrina, and Daphne were standing at the bottom of the slope, while the rest of the family—and Mustardseed—stood at the top. Come to think of it, they were pretty much shouting to communicate with one another.

They always ended up in the most random situations; and this was no exception. _Why can't we seem like a normal little family while Mustardseed is around? _Daphne felt her heartbeat quicken as she got closer to the blond-haired prince.

When they made it to the top, Puck slapped his brother on the back, throwing him a good-natured smile. Sabrina took his hand and squeezed it lightly, and then they both moved to walk toward the house.

She was alone. Outside. With the love of her life—who had no idea that she even felt the slightest bit of attraction to him…or so she hoped.

"Hi," she squeaked, avoiding his eyes.

Mustardseed didn't say anything, but she could feel his stare bore into her back like a physical object. The intense heat from his gaze triggered a rosy glow in her cheeks.

"Why are you soaked in water?" he finally asked; to her immense relief, he kept his eyes firmly on her face and shoulders—no lower.

"I—um," she managed to regain her voice, "Puck threw me into the pond." Her laugh was genuine when she chuckled at Puck's…special antics.

Mustardseed grinned, pleased to see her smile, "I'll apologize outright for my brother's idiocy. He's never been one to follow the rules."

Even though he was fairly beaming, Daphne could sense something was off with him. She could feel the waves of anxiety flowing in his demeanor. Finally mustering up enough to courage to try and help the problem, she looked into his smoky gray eyes and dared to interrogate him.

"Why did you come here?"

Mustardseed stiffened, pushing back his curls, "What are you talking about?"

She groaned; even if she did adore him, he could be so _dense _at times, "Why are you in Ferryport Landing, Mustardseed?"

Hearing his name spoken by her seemed to snap him out of a trance, "I, well, it's only that—"

"Get in here, you little hooligans!" Puck bellowed from the doorway, motioning inside, "The Old Lady has her special pasta all ready to serve! You'd better hurry if you want anything to eat!"

Daphne turned back to Mustardseed, expecting an answer, but he was looking anywhere but at her, "Let's go in." that was all.

By the time she processed his words, Mustardseed was already letting himself in the back door.

_What's up with him? Is he angry for some reason? Maybe Puck made him come here to apologize for something. Maybe he hates us. _Just before she walked in the kitchen, a horrible thought seeped its way into her brain.

_Maybe he hates me._

::

_New York City_

"He could have done it! He could have killed her right then!" the angry voice of a younger man broke the thick silence that had enveloped the room moments ago.

"Shut up," a feminine tone snapped, "Let him have time. He's being smart; waiting for the right time to pounce."

"But, he could have been done with it and—"

"Did I send you on that mission?" the girl's tone was low, deadly.

He gulped, "No, my lady, it only seemed—"

"Then keep your unwanted opinions to yourself." She stood; a curtain of long, shimmering hair covering one side of her pale face. Covered in the shadow, she looked mysterious and lethal all at once.

"My lady, what do you plan to do next?" another man, this one smart with words, asked the woman at the head of the cherry wood table.

"We do nothing."

This man was wider than the first, and he decided to remain calm, "Are you sure we won't be needed to assist the young man? We would be of no help if we only sat and watched his operation unfold."

"Thank you for your concern," there was sarcasm in her cold voice, "He'll do fine."

"How can you be sure, my lady?"

"Because," her silhouette was outlined by the few rays of sunlight that entered the darkened room, "I have _very _special things of his held delicately in my grasp."

The dozen men sitting around the table all looked at each other in confusion; but the rational one who had dared to speak, declared in a prideful voice:

"I'm sure your plan will work out _perfectly, _Lady Moth."

::

"When did you find out?" Relda gushed, popping an M&M into her small mouth and leaning forward on her elbows.

Everyone had moved to the living room after a stomach-bursting meal; and they were now visiting and eating freshly-made vanilla ice cream mixed with M&M's.

"About a week ago. I'm four months in already."

At the collective gasp from around the room, she smirked and started to explain herself.

"I haven't been keeping up with my doctor appointments lately, so I decided to _finally _sign up for a quick little examination. Of course, I'd noticed that I had been vomiting more, but I thought that was only a side effect of living with Puck." Everyone laughed, and she continued, "Once he was done with the check up, I could tell something wasn't right. I was expecting the worst; but then he told me I was pregnant. And that I'd already gone through the first trimester without any difficulty!"

"That's our girl!" Veronica fist-bumped Henry and Daphne, who was seated on a leather recliner across the room, groaned.

"You're _way _too old to be fist-bumping, guys!" she huffed, hoping Mustardseed hadn't noticed their embarrassing act. But it didn't seem like she was in danger of that situation.

He didn't seem to notice _anything _going on around him. He would smile and laugh at the right times, but Daphne could tell that it was forced. His eyes were somewhere else, glazed off into the distance. Something was definitely wrong—she was sure that was he'd come to see her family.

"Earth to Daphne!" Sabrina waved her hand in front of her sister's face.

_Was I zoned out, too? _"What?" her voice came out sharper than she expected.

"Puck and I were thinking of going to a nice restaurant tonight to celebrate our baby. We thought maybe you and Mustardseed would like to go." Her sister flitted her eye in a tiny wink at the end of her suggestion.

She knew. She could see Daphne's obvious crush on Puck's brother, and, bless her, she was trying to give them an opportunity to have time alone, without adults around.

Veronica nodded, looking excited, "You'll have a great time!"

Henry didn't look so thrilled, "Where exactly are you going?"

"The little country club downtown." Puck answered smoothly, "They have ballroom dancing, and a nice place to eat. We wouldn't take our precious little siblings anywhere dangerous." He reached down and ruffled Mustardseed's honey-colored hair.

"Wait a minute," Granny looked at the young prince, seeing his tentative expression, "Let's let Mustardseed have a say in the matter. Do you want to go, dear?"

Daphne paled, _He'll say no. He doesn't want to go. I'll be a third wheel—_

But instead of denying the invitation, he glanced over at Daphne, "Sounds like a good time."

Veronica stood up dizzyingly fast and ushered them all toward the stairs, "You can't go in such shabby clothes! Go dress in something nicer. And hurry—it's already five o'clock!"

"But I don't have anything suitable to wear—" Mustardseed began to protest, backing out of the room.

"Nonsense! Puck will lend you something, right Puck?" Veronica's fierce expression didn't give Puck much room to protest.

"Sure," the two brothers walked up the stairs into the guest bedroom.

Daphne sighed; from happiness or fatigue, she didn't know. She was going to find out what was up with Mustardseed, no matter the cost. But, for tonight, she would let herself have a good time.

Eight changes of clothes later, Daphne was finally ready. She twirled around in front of her full-length mirror and, for once, admired herself.

Her dress was made of the deepest of reds, and was tight around the bodice, with an A-line skirt that puffed out slightly around the legs. Black high heels made her legs look long and thin—even if they gave her a higher chance of breaking her ankle some time during the night.

Her hair was loosely curled and wound into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and ran in a center part on the crown of her head. Her eyes looked huge and dark, her lips Snow-White red (a very good thing) and her face smooth and bright.

"Oh, my," she summoned her inner Snow White, "Mustardseed, I don't think you'll be able to keep your eyes off me tonight!"

"I agree." A deep voice sounded from the door.

_Mustardseed. _She turned and faced him, feeling her heart drop to her toes; as her face ballooned with heat.

::

_New York City_

Moth sat alone in the room, staring intently at the big-screen TV on the left wall. All of her advisors had left, and she was finally, blissfully, alone.

A laugh escaped her throat when the idiotic little Grimm girl's cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment.

"Using charm to win her trust back—always thinking, my dearest Mustardseed." A loose hair fell from her forehead, and she brushed it back; the picture of carelessness.

"I can't wait to see what happens next." She watched Mustardseed study the girl's blood-red dress with something like gentleness in his eyes; he was a very convincing actor, "Even though I already know we're going to win."

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**Sorry to throw so much at you, but I wanted to get the story moving. **

**I'm not forcing you to review, but it really is appreciated, and helps me to write quickly. Also, give me suggestions for future chapters. Thanks! See you guys next Friday.**


	4. Uninvited Guests

**Sorry for the delay, guys. I'm not going to lie, I had SERIOUS writer's block for the middle of this chapter. It's kind of a filler, except for the last part. But I still hope you enjoy. **

**Remember to leave feedback and suggestions for later chapters!**

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Daphne clinked her wine glass—filled with sparkling water—against Sabrina's and watched as her sister took a hearty swig of her own deep red drink.

She still couldn't quite grasp the fact that her sister was _pregnant_. Even after months of carrying the baby, there was no outright sign of a baby bump. Sure, she might have put on a little extra weight, but wasn't the mother supposed to be round and waddle around like a penguin? Was something wrong…?

"So, Marshmallow," Puck drawled, leaning back sloppily in his chair. He'd had an extra glass of wine, and it was making him much more…_relaxed _than usual. And by "relaxed" that means even more a pain in the you-know-where than he usually could be. For the past twenty minutes, he had been asking personal, somewhat private questions that no one wanted to answer. Daphne had a sneaking suspicion that she was about to be put on the spot, "Have you got yourself a nice little boyfriend?"

Daphne blushed and glanced at Mustardseed; he was scowling, deep in thought, over at the little band playing classic tunes while couples danced across the freshly polished floor.

It was official: he hated her. He hadn't spoken one word to her all night, and he seemed reluctant to even walk within an inch of her when they'd entered the restaurant.

"Well?" Puck prompted, wrapping a strong arm around Sabrina's chair.

"I…um—" Oh, no. A devious plan was forming in her head, but she refused to do such a petty thing. She wouldn't act like a jealous, stalker-ish teenage girl, "Yeah, I do have a special someone." The words slipped out before she could stop them.

_Nooooooooo! Why did you say that, Daph? Why!_

Sabrina gave her a pointed look and asked, "Who is it? I've never heard of him before."

Daphne brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and shrugged, "Dominic from my English class." She threw out a name, hoping that none of her family would know who he was.

"You mean the kid with acne and a tree trunk for a nose?" Puck slammed his drink on the table and leaned forward; at her half-puzzled, half-panicked look, he explained, "You had to work on a project and you invited him home, remember?"

Daphne was horrified, what had she gotten herself into? "No, I—"

"You two even worked in your bedroom!" Puck scoffed, "I bet you weren't even working on the project! You were probably using that as an excuse to have a little fun in—"

Mustardseed stood and shoved his chair close to the table, "I'm going to the bathroom." His voice was stormy, and no one, not even Puck, made a move to stop him.

Daphne turned to her brother-in-law, cheeks stained bright red, "We studied! That's all!" even through her humiliation and anger, she couldn't help but smile at Puck's obliviousness. He truly was interested in her love life…even if he was intoxicated.

For a while, the table was silent. Puck was staring off into unknown space, Sabrina was sending regularly timed irritated glances at Daphne; and Daphne was wondering if it was normal for Mustardseed to be in the bathroom so long.

"Looks like the party died out."

Daphne tilted her head back and saw Mustardseed's eyes peering down at her, "More like Puck drank himself into a coma."

Mustardseed's mouth showed a vague outline of a smile, even though it didn't reach his eyes.

Sabrina sighed and stood up, depositing her cloth napkin onto her plate, "Puck, would you like to dance?"

"Isn't the man supposed to ask the woman?" Daphne tried to lighten the mood that Mustardseed had quickly darkened.

Sabrina rolled her eyes, "Has our relationship _ever _been normal?"

Puck smiled, seeming more alert than a few minutes ago, "I'd love to, Grimm."

The blond-haired couple walked hand-in-hand to the dance floor, leaving Daphne alone with a shadow of the man she had admired for so long. _Why can't I have a relationship like that? _She thought, watching Puck and Sabrina twirl, surprisingly gracefully, across the floor—their faces contorted in laughter, eyes bright with excitement. They were so natural around each other. Like best friends.

"Care to dance, my lady?" a deep voice startled Daphne from her thoughts.

Mustardseed was holding out his hand, a small, impish smile stretched on his wide lips. Her heart ballooned with joy. He was talking to her!

"I-I…would love to." She muttered, hoping her face wasn't _too _red. She took his hand and let him pull her from the velvet-covered chair she was seated on.

Once they made it to the floor, he wrapped one arm around her waist and kept her other hand in his. Then they started to move. Daphne was clumsy and awkward; she cursed herself for skipping those waltzing classes Granny had wanted her to take. With each messed-up step, she became more hopeless, until she felt like her head might explode with humiliation.

"I can't." she pulled away, almost bumping into the couple next to them.

"You can." He pulled her back, "It's simple. Just count."

They started back up again, Mustardseed showing her how to properly time the right steps to the dance. After a few tries, she was moving in unison with the crowd without having to stare directly at her feet. "I'm doing it!" she cried gleefully, realizing too late how idiotic she must have sounded.

"You're a natural!" Mustardseed lifted her up and spun her in the air.

In that moment, she didn't care that he seemed to have a severe case of clashing moods, or that he could be marrying another woman, or that she probably was sweating like a hog—all she cared about were the strong, gentle arms around her. That was all that mattered.

"You've changed."

Daphne looked up at him, startled, "What do you mean by that?"

He shrugged, "You've changed. When I last saw you, you had little pigtails on the sides of your head; and you would always bite your hand when you got excited. I guess, all I'm saying is that you've grown up."

She bristled at the vague way he said it, "I'm not a child, you know! You're only a year older than me!"

Mustardseed smirked, and Daphne felt a blush color her cheeks. _Why can't I keep my mouth shut? _

"We've both grown up. Is that better?"

She sniffed and nodded, trying not to smile. Even though he was trying to act cold and aloof, his natural kindness couldn't be hidden no matter what. Even when he was giving up a chance at true love to marry his brother's discarded fiancé, he was joking around with her. It wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

::

He _really _needed to stop dancing with Daphne. He knew he should let go of her small waist, walk back to their table, and wait for the night to be over…

Yet he stayed by her side, smiling inwardly as she attempted to learn dances he'd taken centuries to master. With every pout, every smile, every laugh she gave out, he was more and more infatuated with her.

Finally, after an hour and a half of dancing, she suggested they should sit and rest for a while. He agreed, mostly because the urge to kiss her was becoming a persistent agony in his gut.

"Mustardseed," Daphne turned to him, her dark eyes wide, "What's it like in New York?"

"You were there, weren't you?" he mused, barely remembering a time when Puck had been sick, and the whole Grimm family had rushed to save him.

"I was, but everything was so rushed." A strand of hair fell from where it was secured; he held himself back from tucking it back into place, "We were so scared that Puck would die. Not very much of a vacation, if you ask me."

He chuckled, "It's nice there—although you never quite get a chance to rest. It's always so busy. People are always rushing around, trying to get somewhere."

"It sounds very…" she searched for the right word, "Interesting."

"It's interesting, all right."

Daphne straightened, seeming to understand the double-meaning to his words, "Can I ask you another question?"

He nodded slowly.

"Are you…are you going to marry Moth?"

Mustardseed took in a sharp breath, looking anywhere but her innocent, trusting eyes. He wanted to say no, to deny any attachment to the lunatic queen; wanted to sweep her into his arms and run. Run to some remote country where they could be alone. But he couldn't. He knew this moment had to come—he just wished it would have come later.

"Yes, I am." He forced himself to look at her, dreading the look he would see in her eyes. But he never did.

Puck blocked her from his sight.

"M-seed," Puck used his little brother's hated nickname, "Go get the car, okay?"

"Why?" Mustardseed asked sharply, annoyed with Puck already. Couldn't he stay out of the way for once?

"I…uh…" Puck suddenly stooped over, clutching his stomach.

Sabrina ran to his side, "Mustardseed, please. Go get the car and pull it up to the front entrance." She sent an irritable look at her husband, "Puck drank like an alcoholic, so now he's getting sick."

Daphne jumped from the table, reaching for Sabrina's keys, "I'll go get it if Mustardseed won't."

Sabrina nodded gratefully and tossed the keys to her sister before lowering down to Puck's level and scolding him.

"You idiot! You could have poisoned yourself with such a strong drink!"

Puck chuckled, holding his head, "I'm sorry. I was just so happy about the baby—it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Hey, lovebirds," Mustardseed motioned toward the door, "Since Puck can barely walk; we should probably make our way down to the lobby."

"Good idea."

::

A half an hour later, they were _finally _situated in the car and ready to go. Puck made an argument that he should drive, but that was rejected almost instantly. Then, Sabrina decided she wanted to sit by Puck, but also felt that she was the only acceptable driver. After ten solid minutes of bickering, Daphne was fed up.

"I'm driving and that's final!" she pulled the gear shift into Drive and fairly shot out of the parking lot.

Mustardseed sat in the passenger's seat, staring intently out the window; Sabrina was behind him, holding hands with Puck, who had decided, in his drunken state, that it was time to have an emotional conversation.

"Do you regret it, Mustardseed?" he started, looking softly at his younger brother.

"Do I regret what?"

"Agreeing to marry Moth."

Mustardseed looked at Daphne, whose spine had suddenly gone ramrod straight at the change of conversation.

"I do sometimes," he knew that wasn't the answer Puck was looking for, but it was the truth.

"I'm sorry," Puck whispered, obviously still drunk.

"You found Sabrina. What was I supposed to do? Force you to leave the only woman you've ever loved?" he couldn't control the note of sadness that found its way into his voice.

"You know something, Mustardseed?" Puck drawled, draping his arms around his sibling from behind, "You really are a kind person. You've given up so much for me—love, true happiness—and you aren't bitter, you don't ask for anything in return. Who else has such a wonderful brother?"

"He is very kind." Daphne spoke up from the driver's seat.

When Mustardseed turned to look at her, she gave him a wide, forgiving smile. Never in his life had he hated himself more than in that moment.

_I'm not kind! I'm the farthest thing from it. They see the side of me that I want them to see. If they found out what I'm truly like…_

They would hate him.

"We're home!" Daphne announced, pulling the key out quickly from the ignition, "Sabrina, do you need help getting Puck out of the car?"

"What was that?" Sabrina's voice turned low, and she whipped around to look out the tinted window.

Daphne unbuckled her seatbelt, "Did you hear something?" she made a move to open the car door, but Mustardseed grabbed her arm and held her inside.

_No. Not this soon. They're already here…_

Daphne twisted in his grip,"What are you—?"

"Listen to me," he growled, "Hurry and get in the house." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut across her smoothly, "Go. In. Don't look back, promise me you won't. That goes for you too, Sabrina."

Daphne looked at him one last time, "Come inside as soon as you can."

Mustardseed felt his stomach contract and churn, "I will."

He watched as Daphne and Sabrina supported Puck from either side. Made sure their figures entered the house, that they were safe.

Then he opened the car door and walked, calmly, into the forest.

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**I'm very excited to write the next chapter...that should worry you all. Don't forget to click that cute little button and review! Until next time, have a great day.**


	5. Talking about Wedding Plans, maybe?

**This chapter was so fun to write! Mainly because Moth is in it. Honestly, she might be my favorite character to write about. Hmm...odd, I know.**

**I hope you enjoy this. The ending is rushed, but it's only because the next set of of the plot wouldn't fit in this chapter, so it got complicated and blah blah blah. Just read. Oh, and don't forget to REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**

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The forest was larger than it looked. Huge tree trunks, the size of a table in width, rose from the ground and towered up into the canopy of green leaves. Even if he tilted his head back so it touched the base of his skull, he _still _couldn't see the tree tops. The prince had a suspicious feeling that the incredible size had something to do with magic.

With each step, the instinct to turn back and run to the Grimm household was becoming stronger. What he was doing was traitorous, disgusting. It went against everything he valued…but Moth had something he cherished. And she wouldn't hesitate to crush it if he so much as laid a finger out of line. Mustardseed hated her with an burning fury, but he had to admit—not only was she beautiful, in a dark, twisted sort of way, she was also cunning. She knew exactly what strings to pull, what buttons to push, to get her way.

"Oi, over here!"

Mustardseed turned to see a giant of a man, dressed in a business suit, motioning him into a grove where the trees concealed any action inside.

"Hey, Jak, how have you been?" Mustardseed almost felt relieved to see the huge man. In another life, Jak probably could have been considered a real giant. His waist was fairly the size of the tree he was standing next to, and his face was large and foreboding. Even his mustache, which was a deep red color to match his hair, was humongous. Despite his size, Jak was actually quite nice. He was only working for Moth because he absolutely needed the money. He also refused to kill anyone—even Moth was intimidated by his size.

"Fine." Jak tapped his foot impatiently, "We've been waiting for you since noon. Lady Moth is not in the best of moods."

"She knew I had to spend time with the family," Mustardseed arranged his features into their usual cold stare that he used around Moth; "I said I would speak with her as quickly as I could. This is the earliest I was available."

"No need to use such big words, boy!" Jak slapped him on the back, leading him toward the entrance to the clearing, "Just go in and get it over with. She won't keep you long."

Mustardseed sighed, ducking into the place where Moth was waiting.

::

"Where _is _he?" Daphne pounded her fist against the table, pacing to the TV and back, "He said he would come back!"

Sabrina calmly held her sister's gaze, "I'm sure he's fine, Daphne."

"I don't care! He should have…" her voice broke off, and the dark-haired girl felt frustrated tears well up in her eyes, "Told us." Without another word, she was dashing toward the back door.

"Daphne!" Sabrina jumped from the couch and followed her sister, "Come back! He's fine!"

Daphne turned and faced Sabrina, "Something isn't right. I can feel it."

Sabrina glared at her sister, leaning against the counter. Daphne's dark gaze was filled with determination. _She truly cares about him. _ "Make sure you don't do anything stupid. I wish I could come with you, but…" she patted her nonexistent pregnant stomach.

"I'll be careful." Daphne heaved the door open and took off at a run; heading straight for the forest.

_Please be okay, Mustardseed. I shouldn't have let you go alone! I could have argued more; forced you to let me come along. But I didn't…_

After what seemed like hours of running, Daphne stopped, bracing her elbows on her knees and panting. She peered around the huge tree trunk she was hiding behind—and her stare rested on a man dressed in all black, guarding something.

_Mustardseed! _She started to confront the man, but stopped quickly. His size was enough to make her quiver in her dad's old hunting boots she'd thrown on. The guy looked like a gorilla! Minus the hair and awful smell.

_Looks like I'm staying here for a while…_

::

The first thing Mustardseed's eyes focused on when he entered the cool, secluded grove, was the figure of the woman who he'd rather not lay eyes on again—Moth. But, really, there wasn't much else to look at.

She was sitting haughtily on a throne that looked to be made out of pure gold; the backrest was made of purple velvet. She wore a gown of sparkling silver that fell in towers of satin—the fabric ran to the floor and out on either side of her; literally covering half of the area with her over-the-top frock. Her hair was curled and woven into a towering bun atop her head. As usual, she was taking advantage of her wealth and dressing herself up to rival the Queen of Sheba.

Mustardseed couldn't help but remember how innocent and beautiful Daphne had looked in her simple but flattering dress. He shook the thought from his head, focusing instead on Moth's attempt at a seductive expression.

"Did you miss me?" she lowered one eyelid in a dramatic wink.

Mustardseed's face remained blank, "I did."

"Then act like it!" she squealed in that stupid, little kid voice that he hated, "Come give me a hug! I _am _your fiancé."

"If I came anywhere near you, I would end up stepping on that gorgeous dress of yours," he prayed she would just tell him what he was here for and then leave for good, "I mean, it is draped all over the floor." He couldn't resist adding in a superior tone.

"I thought you'd like it, honey!" Moth brushed off the slight, curling her legs under her lap like a child, "Compared to that shabby number Little Grimm wore, I must look like a goddess."

Mustardseed felt his hands clench into fists, but he wouldn't give Moth the satisfaction of seeing him lose his temper. He took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye, "You're right. That dress is so gorgeous; I don't know how _any _other woman could compare to your impeccable tastes, Lady Moth."

She had to have heard the obvious sarcasm laced in his voice, but all she did was smirk irritatingly at him.

"My lady," Jak spoke up from a few feet away, "If I may interject; the Grimm family must be getting anxious about Mr. Goodfellow's whereabouts. Shouldn't we move this conversation along…quickly?"

"If you don't mind, Jak, I was getting to that," Moth spat, obviously embarrassed.

Mustardseed sent the other man a grateful look before turning back to Moth.

She'd managed to stand up amongst all of the fabric of her dress. But that wasn't what amazed—and terrified—him. It was the look in her eyes. Any other time he had the misfortune of conversing with her, she was always flirty and annoying. But the look in her dark gray eyes was one of pure loathing.

"My request is a small one," he started, walking towards him with slow, deliberate steps.

He fought the urge to back away from her, "Tell me what it is, my lady."

"You know the reason we're getting married, don't you? It's because that disgusting brother of yours decided to walk out on me right before our wedding! He _left _me! I was alone, young, embarrassed. Everyone made fun of me. I was a disgrace. But you know me—I always take revenge." She was mere inches from him, her narrowed eyes boring into his. But he still refused to back away; he kept her intense stare, "So I found what I needed to lure you in. And it worked. You're my little puppet, aren't you?" she reached up and laid a cold hand on his cheek.

"I already know everything you just told me, Moth." He was growing more impatient by the second.

"It all leads up to this, Mustardseed. Everything we've done together has had its purpose; it's all going to make sense now." The hand moved down to his neck, her thumb stroked his chin, "This is the first step in crushing the entire Grimm family."

Moth snapped her fingers, and Jak rushed forward with a glass bottle the size of his thumb. Inside, there was a clear liquid; almost too transparent to see.

She took it and popped the cap off, gliding it gently under his nose.

He expected something to happen—an explosion, a flood, an earthquake, maybe. But nothing happened; the potion, whatever it was, was completely odorless.

"Just wait," Moth giggled, running her hand to his chest.

Then he felt it, or rather, he saw it. Saw nothing at all. Everything in front of him was pitch black. "What…what did you do?"

Moth's hand was still pressed to his chest, "It's a potion used for patients with extreme pain. It blocks the senses, numbs the mind. But if the patient is perfectly fine, it can cause loss of sight, sound, taste, touch; even death. You see what a mere whiff of this can do to you. Imagine what a drink could accomplish…"

Mustardseed heard the sharp of her fingers, and he was thrown back into the light, "What should I do with it?"

Moth grinned, her white teeth gleaming in the shadows, "I want you to give it to that annoying Grimm girl."

Mustardseed felt his whole body recoil from her touch, _Not Daphne. She's too important. Not her. Anyone but her. _His fear must have been evident in his eyes, because Moth cocked her head and scowled.

"I'm talking about the older Grimm. The pregnant one."

He hated himself for it; but Mustardseed felt himself relax. At least it wasn't Daphne. But still, how could he do something so evil? He reminded himself that Moth held something precious in her grasp—something he loved. He _had _to do what she said…or else.

"Don't worry, Mustardseed, I'll leave your little crush out of this…for now." She inched even closer, so her lips were centimeters from his.

"What do you want with Sabrina?" he breathed, thinking of the spunky blonde's genuine smile and compassion.

"I want nothing to do with that whore," Moth's tone was low; "She's merely the quickest way to get to Puck."

Mustardseed wished he was strong; that he could flip her off and walk calmly back to the Grimm's home. He would defend the whole family, earn their respect, and be fearless. But he just wasn't that kind of person. He wasn't brave, or fearless, or outspoken—he was _meek. _Even in the face of danger, he couldn't muster up enough courage to speak up.

Moth's hand, which had stayed on his chest for the last few minutes, circled his neck, "I'll miss you." She whispered, standing at the exact same height as he did. Her pale lips touched his for the briefest of seconds; barely a wisp, and then she twirled around, prancing back to her port-a-throne.

He bowed, a farewell gesture among his people, and ducked back through the trees.

::

Daphne was tired. And "tired" didn't mean sleepy. It was a combination of anger, fear, hopelessness, and irritation that formed the full meaning of quote-unquote "tired".

Just when she felt herself start to doze off, the crunching of leaves snapped her eyes open. The sky was slowly fading into dusk, and the forest looked shadowy and foreboding in the miniscule amount of sunlight. Someone could easily knock her unconscious and take her away. Maybe they would hold her hostage, or sell her into a slave market, or—

_Stop it! _She scolded her over-reactive imagination. It was probably just an animal looking for dinner. Maybe it was deer…she'd always considered the deer to be her favorite animal. She adored their long, graceful legs and quick movements. Everything about them was so mysterious, so alluring.

Everything she wanted to be.

Daphne _worshiped _the cool, mystifying girls in her school. She was an open book, always wearing her heart on her sleeve. These girls were curt, if not a little rude, with barely anything to say. But when they talked, everyone listened. Maybe if she was more like that, Mustardseed would be intrigued. And then maybe he'd pay attention to her…

Her thoughts were stopped when a human shape emerged from a thicket of trees yards away from her hiding spot. It was larger than she was, so if she wanted to attack, she needed to use the element of surprise.

Without thinking, she stepped forward to get a closer look, kicking a pebble in the process. It bounced and landed right at the figure's feet. She gasped (another idiotic thing to do) and took up a fighter's stance that Snow had taught her in karate class.

"Don't come any closer," she warned, jabbed her pointer finger in accusation, "I know karate!"

The shadow didn't make any move to hurt her—in fact, the only thing it did…was _laugh._

Huge, breath-taking snorts that made her want to laugh too. But she kept a straight face, albeit her twitching lips, "Don't underestimate me! I'll—I'll—"

Before she could think, Daphne was suddenly swept off the ground. She finally was able to find her voice after a few seconds of labored breathing. She pounded on the person's chest; "How _dare _you! Put me down this instant! I swear to all that is good if you even—"

"Daphne, calm down," an amused voice shocked her out of her tirade.

"M-Mustardseed?" Daphne hated herself for sounding breathless.

He peered down at her with bright gray eyes, "Yeah, who else would it be?" he snickered, probably still seeing her stunned expression.

All of Daphne's anger flushed out of her the second she saw the little bottle tucked into his shirt, "What's this?" Darn her natural curiosity! Couldn't she focus on one emotion at a time?

Mustardseed pushed it farther down, hiding it from her sight, "Medicine for my stomach."

Was it her, or did his voice sound slightly panicked?

"Come on, Daphne," he set her down—she already missed his touch—and started to walk, "It's time to get home."

The youngest Grimm stared fixedly at the lump in his shirt the bottle created—something important to him was in there. And she was going to find out what it was.

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**Sorry about the ending :/ You'll get your fill of romance in the upcoming chapters, though. And isn't Moth just so..evil? It's almost refreshing. Almost. **

**Love to all of you amazing readers who seriously mean the world to me. If you're reading this, I love you SO much. Remember that review button? Yeah, you should push it and leave some feedback. It helps a lot. Thanks :)**


	6. Dancing in Autumn

**Hello, lovely readers! Sorry for the long wait, but here's a new chappie. And with some bittersweet Dapherseed to boot ;) **

**So, I'm sure some of you have an Instagram, am I right? Well I'd love it if some if you followed me! I want to see what my amazing readers look like! My username is bealynng. Comment " " on one of my pictures, and I'll know it's one of you! Then I'll follow you. Hope to meet some of you guys!  
**

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He was running from it. Plain and simple. From his problems, from his feelings, from _everything. _He was ignoring his plights and trying to shove everything into the back of his mind. But it wasn't working—no amount of reason or kindness could ever make him forget about what he was going to do. Sooner or later, the heir to the throne was going to be forced to face his problems…head on.

"Enough of this nonsense," Mustardseed scolded himself, pulling a sheet of paper and a pen from a drawer in the guestroom he was staying in. For the past half an hour, he'd been trying to write a letter to Titiana; but thoughts of the crimes he was going to commit rose shamelessly above everything else, "No more distractions."

The prince took a deep breath, placed his pen over the creamy paper, and forced himself to write the opening line. After those first two words, the rest flowed out of him like water. He was in need of a listening ear—and his mother was just the right person to hear him out.

_Dear Mother,_

_ I'm writing this to you from the Grimm's household. Puck has been residing here, too. He's married to Sabrina, the girl you met in New York all that time ago. She's five months pregnant with their baby. Don't worry, they make a nice couple; and Puck seems truly happy with her. _

_ Even though I wish my letter was of good spirits, there are things happening around here that require me to write to you. I won't explain them now, because other eyes might try to read this. But an old enemy hasn't quite been wiped out—and she's back for revenge. I'll let you do the guessing. I know I haven't spoken to you in a while; but please, remember that things are very busy for me._

_ Maybe I'll come to visit you soon. Give your servants my best wishes, and go to Father's grave for me. I'll tell Puck that I've written to you. Until we meet—_

_-Mustardseed_

He read over the print again; it looked detailed and eloquent enough to him. Deciding it was the best he could do for the moment, Mustardseed licked the envelope shut and made a mental note to sneak the letter to post office later today.

The thought of his mother brought on a wave of guilt. When he'd left for Ferryport Landing, his mother's eyes never quite focused on him. In fact, they never really focused on anything. The queen walked around in a daze most of the time; still tending to her duties, still a powerful figure, but Titiana was empty. A shell of the woman she used to be.

She had been like that ever since Oberon was murdered.

Even her looks, which she prized beyond comprehension, were fading. The queen's hair, once a long dark curl, hung limply to her waist—a touch of gray smearing her temples. The figure she was known for had gradually made its way to one inch of flesh short of a skeleton. She could still be called beautiful, in a brittle kind of way, but soon enough Queen Titiana would be nothing but a walking corpse.

This was yet another thing to blame his loathsome fiancé-slash-psycho for.

Mustardseed was thinking about keeping a chalkboard and tallying up all of Moth's offences toward people he cared about. By now, she was up to five…maybe six. Seven if you counted the mere fact that she was born.

He smiled, thinking about how Puck would probably burst into guffaws if Mustardseed would have shared his thoughts. Even though his older brother was tactless, rude, selfish, vain, and many, _many _other things—he was trustworthy and honest; and Mustardseed loved him.

The grin vanished when he realized what he was about to do to his own brother's unborn child. Mustardseed turned and stared at the bottle he'd placed on his dresser. The clear liquid sat still; but it was as though Moth's very presence was in the room with him—watching, waiting for him to make his move.

The prince sighed. _I can't stall much longer…she'll figure out that I'm only buying time. _

"I should tell them." He thought aloud, starting to pace, "Then they would know what I'm going through. They would know how much I wish I didn't have to do something so cruel…" but he knew that would never happen. Moth would obliterate the entire Grimm family just to prove a point. For now, he could only try and keep things going slow, give the Grimms some clues; and, if they were quick-witted enough, let them in on the entire scheme.

One could only hope.

With a sigh, he stood and decided to get the mail-sending over with. Since he couldn't put the envelope in the mailbox—for fear of Moth, or the Grimms, finding out—he was going to have one of Puck's devious little pixies send it for him.

The first step was to find one of the pests, which meant going into Puck's old room. The trickster now shared a bedroom with Sabrina in their new wing of the house; but Granny Relda kept the nature-themed room open for nostalgia—and so the trouble-making pixies would leave the rest of the house alone. Mustardseed had seen Puck wander into the room occasionally, smiling as he did.

The younger prince himself had always hated being in any residence Puck took. Even back when both brothers lived with Oberon and Titiana, Puck's room imitated the outdoors.

The younger prince shuddered, remembering how _real _everything felt. The grass tickled your toes, the wind blew softly, and the flowers gave off a perfumed scent. It was unnatural, and Mustardseed was at loathing accepting things that unnerved him.

_Maybe I should try to be more open…_

The thought flitted through his head, and he laughed, knowing such a thing would never happen. Where Puck was concerned, he had to stay strong…

Or else he might take his brother's lead and run off with Daphne forever.

Mustardseed's thoughts were interrupted when he reached Puck's door. He twisted the handle, expecting it to be locked; instead, it clicked open easily.

_What an idiot, _Mustardseed mused, stepping gingerly into the emerald-green grass, _He didn't even lock his door. _

The smell of fresh air and autumn leaves overtook his senses the second he closed the door. Funny, just a couple days ago, Puck had announced that it was snowing inside his room. _So it randomly changes…?_

Shaking the unneeded thoughts from his head, Mustardseed scanned the fiery-colored forest for any sign of tittering pixies. For a long moment, there was nothing—

And then the sound of a violin gently weaved from the thicket and drew him toward the trees. The tune was soft and melodic, and it was also familiar. But he couldn't quite remember why, like the memory was foggy.

He walked further and further, until he was sure he was lost. Sighing in defeat—almost sure that he was prey to the pixies' latest scheme—he leaned back against a tall tree trunk…

And fell backside-first into a tiny grove of trees—much like he and Moth had been in not too long ago. Except this place was alive and cheery, unlike the dead/claustrophobic atmosphere Moth had trapped him in.

Amidst his confused thoughts and tugging memories was when he saw it—or rather, the prince saw _her_.

Daphne. She was dancing, her delicate feet sliding across the earth.

He caught his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from her graceful body. Her dark hair, pulled into a ponytail that reached mid-back, swung from side to side; she was dressed in pajama pants and a loose sweatshirt that made her look ten times her size; but to Mustardseed, she had never looked more beautiful. She looked like the wood nymphs in his father's court—natural, but alluring and gorgeous. For the longest time, his mouth was glued shut in awe.

And then she started to hum.

Mustardseed expected her voice to be as beautiful as her dancing…but he was sadly mistaken. Her tune sounded somewhat like a walrus trying to cough. Without thinking, he started laughing—really laughing. Tears fell from his eyes, and the branch quaked shakily underneath him.

Daphne whipped around, her dark eyes scanning the forest for any danger, "Who's there?"

"I-It's me, Daphne!" Mustardseed chuckled, waving his hands to show he meant to harm.

"Mustardseed?" she gasped, glaring up into the trees. She slowly lifted one hand to her heart and let out a shaky breath, "You…you almost gave me a heart attack! Do you even _know _what kind of creatures lurk around here? I thought you were a wolf…or a bear…or maybe even _Moth _for all I know!" her wide eyes turned glassy.

"Daphne, I—" Mustardseed jumped from the branch, crouching quickly at her side, "I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't think you'd actually get _freaked out_."

"I could have fainted!" she sniffed, curling into a small ball, "Or died from shock. You realize that, right? You could have _killed _me. The least you could do is apologize!"

Mustardseed, without thinking, pulled her small body into his arms and hugged her against him, "I'm _really _sorry, Daphne. I should have warned—"

"Fooled you!" she whispered from his chest.

There was no time to think—one moment he was pondering what she could possibly mean, and the next, a fist collided soundly with his stomach. He wheezed, feeling the air knock right out of his lungs, and doubled over in pain.

"What—" he gasped, unable to speak, "What was _that_ for?"

She giggled, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt so it covered her hands, "For sneaking up on me."

"But…but I apologized after, right?"

"Yeah," Daphne breathed, looking like she wanted to say more. After a long pause, she walked over to him, ignoring his fearful wince, "I'm not going to hurt you, Mustardseed. That was just a revenge punch."

"Yeah, well, it hurt like a real one." He grunted as she sat him down at the trunk of a tree.

She sunk down on her knees beside him, "Did you…think I was being serious when I was crying? I mean, do you think I'm that weak?"

"You were pretty convincing."

"Oh," she looked away, "Well, I guess I am the crybaby sister, so it's pretty easy to believe that I'll get scared of anything."

Mustardseed instantly picked up the note of sadness in her gentle voice, "Daphne…"

"Sabrina's really strong and cool. She doesn't even flinch when monsters come after her. But I…" she took a deep breath, "I run away. Things like that scare me, you know? No, you probably don't. You're brave, too. Like Puck."

Mustardseed wanted to slap her and comfort her at the same time—was _Daphne Grimm _accusing herself of being a _coward_? He'd never heard such a stupid thing in his life. And mind you, he'd had the unfortunate privilege of living with Puck for many years.

"You're an idiot." Was the first thing that escaped his mouth.

"Excuse me?" Daphne punched his arm, eyes widening.

"Well, you are!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders roughly, "Who defeated the Scarlet Hand?"

She wouldn't look at him.

"Well, _who_?" he shook her, suddenly noticing how thin her arms were underneath the bagginess of her sweater.

"Sabrina did." She mumbled.

"And?"

"Puck did too."

"_And?"_ they were practically face-to-face.

"Well, um…I helped."

He groaned, moving his hands to cup the sides of her face, "You didn't just _help_, Daphne. You're a hero. Even people in my father's—my—kingdom talk about you. You're known as a brave person. Don't forget that."

Mustardseed quickly took in how close they were—his hands tilted her face towards his, and she was leaning mere inches away from him; there was no one else around, no one to catch them or find out any secrets.

He unconsciously leaned toward her willowy lips. They were so close, and she smelled so _good_. He had been fooling himself when he tried to flirt with the nymphs and princesses at his father's court. How could he love anyone else? The one girl he loved more than anything was right in front of him, he eyes closed, trusting that he would take care of her.

Millimeters before his lips touched hers, Moth's face popped in his mind. Her sharp features were smug, her beautiful, cold eyes gleaming with malice.

_I can kill her at any moment if it is what I desire. Don't do anything stupid, or that little idiot you love so much will be rotting with her grandfather. _

"I can't," he whispered, pulling away.

She stared at him with her doe-like eyes, "But, we…"

"I know," he stood, brushing the debris from his pants, "And we can't. Ever."

Daphne stayed sitting, her face devoid of emotion, "You're hiding something. You can tell me, you know. I'll listen."

Mustardseed unfolded his wings, afraid to look back; if he did, there would be no stopping him from whisking her away from all this and taking her for his own, "Just…just leave me alone, okay?" he was already flying away by the time he could manage to speak one last time.

She didn't answer. He kept flying, unsure if he was even doing the right thing anymore.

_So much for sending that letter…_


	7. Mr Not So Smooth

**Here ya go! I was actually kind of surprised at the lack of feedback that last chapter got. I'm not complaining, I just feel like I did something wrong and lost you guys' interest. Please, tell me what you thought of the chapter so I can make this story better for all of us. Sorry for sounding whiny :/**

**Disclaimer: I down own anything. Yada yada. All that jazz. Read, for God's sake!**

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That night, for the time in years, Daphne had a dream.

It was odd, really, how rare it was for her to dream. Other people took it for granted—for them, it was merely something that happened. Strange things swirled in their minds, random thoughts and people who had connections to their past.

But to Daphne, dreaming meant something…something _big._

The last time her mind had wandered in her sleep, her dream was about two puppets—their faces unreadable in the dark—hanging from an unseen string. Suddenly, a bright light that rivaled the Sun lit up their figures.

One looked like her mother, and the other like her dad.

A bright red handprint had marred the smooth wood of their cheeks.

The next morning, Henry and Veronica were missing. A few years later, the Scarlet Hand came into play. Daphne's short, frightening dream made sense.

So when her mind started conjuring up the makings of a dream for the second time since she could remember, Daphne was terrified. She tried to wake up, tried to scream, to yell, but nothing came out. Then she was bathed in darkness.

"_Mommy?" _

_ Daphne sat up, feeling sluggish. Her head was as thick as if it was clogged with cotton, "God, I need some aspirin right now." She mumbled. _

_ Looking around, Daphne concluded she was in some kind of valley. Unusually bright green grass was spread evenly from under her fingers. A bright, sapphire-blue sky sat above her, almost at dusk. "Am I in Puck's room?" she said aloud, stretching her back until it cracked. With slightly unsteady legs, she managed to stand. _

_ "Mommy!" the shout came again; but this time it was louder, more frantic than the one before. Daphne couldn't decide if the voice was male or female. Without hesitating, she strode toward the east—or she assumed it was the east, since the sun was now lowering itself on the opposite side of the sky—where the shout had come from. _

What exactly are you going to do once you get there?_ A dubious part of her mind nagged, _You have no weapons, and it's not exactly a secret that you're not the strongest woman in the world…

_"Shut up!" she hissed, hoping no one was around to hear her chattering to herself. It was true; Sabrina had always been the butt-kicker of the two. But admitting it didn't ease the sting. If anything, it made it worse. _

_ She shook her head quickly, as though it would clear the doubts from her mind. She needed to do whatever she could to help the worried voice—even if that meant doing something dangerous and life-threatening. _

_ "Mommy…" this time, the cry was barely a whimper. Right in front of her, Daphne saw a shock of silvery-blond hair. It was a little girl, huddling over a larger figure._

_ "What's wrong, sweetie?" Daphne made sure her voice was calm and sugary; "I can help."_

_ The girl didn't turn around, "My mommy. She's…she's dead! Something came and stabbed her, and—" the child broke off, the words catching in the back of her throat. _

_ "Let me see her." Daphne took a tentative step forward, making sure not to frighten the girl off. _

_ The child finally turned around. Daphne let out an audible gasp—the little girl was the most ethereal creature she had ever seen. Short, curly hair ran right below her chin; the color almost white. Porcelain skin with a creamy undertone gave her an unnatural glow. And her eyes—they were a glorious shade of bright green. Eyes that, Daphne noted with surprise, were the exact same shade at Puck's!_

_ And, at the moment, those wonderful eyes were widened in shock and terror._

_ "What is it?" Daphne cried, looking around for a sign of an attacker. She saw nothing._

_ The girl back away, "You…"_

_ "Who?" Daphne felt rattled, like something terrifying was going to happen._

_ The girl blinked, her face suddenly filled with rage, "It was you! You killed her! You killed my mother! You…you're a monster!" _

_ "I—what?" Daphne gasped, feeling like she'd just taken a blow to the chest, "I didn't…I wasn't…"_

_ "You horrible creature. I hope you rot in eternal damnation! How could you do such a thing to my mother? You're nothing but a demon, Daphne. That's all you are." With one last loathing glare, the girl turned on her heel and disappeared into a cloud of mist. _

_ Daphne fell to her knees, panting for breath. What sort of deranged child was that thing? How could she accuse Daphne of anything so cruel? She lifted one pale hand to wipe the sweat off her face—and stopped, feeling her blood turn to ice._

_ There, clutched in her right hand, was a dagger. A bloody dagger. When she caught her slack-jawed reflection in the metal weapon, her stomach lurched again. _

_ Her irises, still wide with dread, were a bright, crimson shade of red. _

"Daphne? Daphne, are you okay? Wake up!"

The dark-haired Grimm fairly flew up out of the bed, clutching at her chest, "What—where am I? Am I dead?"

There was a moment of loaded silence, and then Puck, who was standing next to her dresses, spoke up, "You were having a nightmare."

Daphne narrowed her eyes, "Why should that matter to you?"

"Because," Sabrina said from Daphne's favorite rocking chair in the corner, "You were screaming."

Now that she looked around, Daphne saw that all of her family was settled in her bedroom; staring at her.

Henry and Veronica were situated on the windowsill, casting worried glances her way. Granny stood in the doorway, and Uncle Jake leaned against a wall. Her gaze still searched for the one person she wanted to see the most—Mustardseed.

Her heart stuttered when she realized he was sitting on her bed, his hand right next to her feet, "Why are you all here?" she succeeded in saying breathlessly; still recovering from the fact that Mustardseed was _in her bed! _

Well, sort of. Half of him was.

"I could hear you screaming from an entire wing away, Daphne," Puck pushed a messy curl from his forehead, "We were all really concerned. You've never done this before."

For an entire heart-wrenching moment, she considered telling them the truth about the content of her dream. The thought was shoved down quickly, though, once she remembered how they would react. Sabrina would stare at her, Puck would try to cover up his worry with a joke; Granny would insist on further inspecting the subject; Uncle Jake would try and find a potion to cure her; her parents would never let her out of their sights…and Mustardseed…

Daphne had no idea what he would do. All thoughts of him aside, upsetting her family would be useless, and especially over something as trivial as this. Sure, the dream made her uneasy, but it wasn't like she'd _actually _killed someone. With a smile, she lifted herself from the bed, "I was having a dream about a giant spider chasing me through Puck's dirty clothes. Who _wouldn't _be scared of such a horrid dream?"

Everyone laughed. Daphne smiled.

See, what was the use in riling everyone up when it was no big deal? After all, her thoughts of her dream would go away in no time…

Right?

::

Mustardseed was torn between the urge to slap Daphne and to kiss her. And the rest of the Grimm family far behind her on the slapping part; couldn't they _see_ how frightened she looked? Obviously she was trying to cover up how shaken this dream had made her.

A few minutes later, Mustardseed, Puck and Sabrina were the only ones with Daphne.

"You can tell us," Sabrina sounded annoyed.

"Tell you what?" Daphne lifted a finger to her mouth and bit down on it.

Sabrina groaned, "Stop acting all innocent, Daph! It's obvious _something _is wrong. You're eyes are darting around like you think something is going to jump out and eat you."

Mustardseed felt a tiny bit of relief that someone else noticed the fact that Daphne was lying through her teeth.

"I'm…I'm not acting like that! Sabrina, listen to yourself; I had a _nightmare_, okay? It's not like someone was hurt. People have these all the time." The younger Grimm wouldn't meet her sister's eyes.

Puck put his arm around Sabrina, "People don't normally scream bloody murder in their sleep."

Daphne turned and sat in her rocking chair, "Keep pestering me about it if you want. But you're all just being overly protective. That's _all_."

Sabrina's mouth went rigid, "Okay, it that's what you want!" she turned to her husband, "Let's go, Puck. She doesn't _need _us. Let's leave her alone." She stalked out of Daphne's room, dragging an apologetic Puck behind her.

Mustardseed watched their figures disappear down the main steps; he grinned when Sabrina's thunderous stomps could be heard all the way out the front door. But when he turned back to look at Daphne, the smile on his face vanished.

Her legs were curled to her chest, as though she was hiding herself from being seen. Mustardseed thought she looked frail—tinier than he'd ever seen her before. And, oh dear God, one lone tear slipped down her cheek and fell off her chin. _She was crying._

The young prince _hated _crying. Especially when the tears came from females.

When Titiana would cry, Mustardseed would hold her hand and kiss her cheek; but inside, he would be frightened. Why did his mother cry? And why wouldn't she stop?

If he had half the right mind his father tried to teach him, Mustardseed would turn, march out the door, and forget this little encounter ever happened. It was torture to know that he couldn't have Daphne…and yet it hurt even more to know that she was suffering this pain alone.

Without leaving room to think, Mustardseed sat himself on the bed—yet again. He reached for the armrest on her chair and yanked the entire piece of furniture, with her still sitting on it, toward him.

Daphne looked up in surprise, "Oh," she said in an overly-cheerful voice, "You're still here, Mustardseed. How nice!"

He didn't buy any of her act, "Stop trying to act like this doesn't bother you. You're sad; I can see it in your eyes."

Daphne flipped her hair haughtily over her neck and rolled her eyes, "You and everyone else. I'm starting to think you guys need some mental help." She made a move to get up from the chair, but stopped when she realized she was trapped. Mustardseed's arms provided a barricade on either side of her, and her chair was now pulled up against the bed so he looked at her head-on.

"You don't ever dream, Daphne." Mustardseed said, his voice strangely devoid of emotion.

"How can you tell me—?" Daphne felt the blood drain from her face. How did…? Not even Sabrina knew Daphne's odd condition (if you could even call it a condition). No, he was bluffing. Teasing her. Trying to grind out a response. She wouldn't fall for it.

"I saw that look on your face, Daphne." Mustardseed, against his will, felt victorious. He'd hit a button; and, so help him; he was going to hit more. "You only dream when something big is going to happen. Good or bad."

_How does he know? What…do I say? _Daphne tried to keep her face composed, but something about his irritatingly self-assured face dashed any hopes of staying collected aside.

"Get out," she ground the words through her teeth.

Mustardseed blanched, "_Excuse me?_"

"Out,"

"I'm trying to help you, Daphne!" he leaned in closer, so their foreheads were almost touching. "You don't have to do this alone. I can help you. Moth told me you were sensitive about your dreams, so—"

He realized his error the second the words left his mouth.

"Moth?" Daphne whispered, "Moth…" then she laughed; a hard, humorless sound, "Of _course _she did! Your fiancé is so _very _smart, isn't she?"

Then she slapped him. Hard. Mustardseed wasn't surprised.

Pushing his large body away, Daphne kicked the chair backwards and wrenched the door open, "Oh, and tell your dear little Moth something, too: She can stay the _hell _out of my business."

It had been three days since they'd spoken. Daphne wouldn't look at him—she couldn't even stand to be in the same _room _as him. Mustardseed couldn't blame her. He'd said something cruel. If only Daphne would let him explain…but what was there to explain? He was working with Moth. As much as he hated the fact, it was unchangeable. Things were set into motion, and it was only a matter of time until Daphne found out.

Puck sauntered into Mustardseed's room, "Granny Relda wants us down in the kitchen. Now."

Mustardseed stood and followed his brother. No one else seemed to treat him any differently; Daphne had kept their little conversation a secret. He didn't know whether to be relieved or shamed.

Or both…yeah, he was both.

"Everyone sit down!" Veronica was grinning madly, "We have a surprise for you!"

Mustardseed dully noted that Daphne, Sabrina and Relda weren't in the room.

"I can't believe it's already happening!" Henry groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"You got over it once, Pops, you can get over it twice." Puck patted his shoulder, ignoring the angry scowl sent his way.

"What's going on?" Mustardseed was genuinely interested now.

Before Henry or Puck could speak, a figure stepped into the kitchen.

It was Daphne. And she looked…_stunning_.

A shimmery lilac dress touched sat on her moderately-curvy form, reaching mid-thigh length. Little beads covered the corset top of the dress, giving her a gentle glow. High, creamy heels added length to already-giraffe-long legs. Her hair was curled and pulled into a low bun.

Mustardseed could only stare. Daphne looked natural, and yet she was prettier than any other woman she'd ever known.

"W-where is she going?" the prince managed to catch his breath.

Puck let out a snort, "Look at Pops' face!"

Mustardseed looked at Henry again, needing an answer. Daphne's father gulped, looking chalky-white.

"Daphne's…" he let out a strangled noise, "My baby…she's going on her first date!"

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**Wait, what? You'll have to stay tuned and find out what happens next. Leave feedback, it helps SOO much.**


	8. The Similarities of Fae and Frenchmen

**Sorry about the wait! School started and everything got crazy. Thank you for being such loyal, amazing readers. I hope you enjoy this chapter; and don't forget to review!**

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Have you ever had the unfortunate experience of being part of an awkward silence? Did you feel the tension crackling in the air; the thick atmosphere? Was sweat starting to form on your upper lip? Did your hands feel cold?

Puck, who happened to be situated between Mustardseed and Henry, was feeling every one of those things mentioned—_very acutely. _

"Who is she going with?" Mustardseed ground out; his teeth clenched together in annoyance.

It was the first time anyone had spoken in a good minute. Before that, a sort of hostile energy had been radiating from Mustardseed's place at the table.

Henry pulled at his graying hair and let out a groan, "Some young man from one of her classes at school. I can't quite remember his name, though," another frustrated sigh emitted from his mouth, "What does it matter who he is? My baby—my little girl—is going on a _date_."

"She's seventeen, Henry," Veronica snapped from her place next to Sabrina—who was cooing over Daphne, "Isn't that considered normal, or even a little _late_, to go on her first date? What do you want her to do…become a nun?"

"Yes, for God's sake! My lovely oldest daughter was already _implanted _with _that one's _genes or else they'd both be on their way to the convent!" Henry shot a you're-not-off-the-hook-yet look at his son-in-law; who grinned in response.

"I say we lock her in a closet," Puck whispered to Mustardseed, hoping to lighten his brother's morbid aura, "Go get some rope!"

"Good idea," Mustardseed started to stand from his chair, a murderous look in his eyes.

"I was joking, Mustardseed! It was just a joke!" Puck yanked his brother's sleeve, "What's gotten into you, M-seed? You're usually so calm. It's _my _job to be the ignorant hothead, remember?"

"It's nothing," Mustardseed rubbed his forehead with his thumbs, "I'm just tired. That's all."

Puck highly doubted it; but the sharp ring of a doorbell made everyone in the room jump.

"He's here!" Veronica screamed girlishly, clapping her hands, "I'll answer the door! Henry, Daphne, come with me! It's time!"

Daphne followed first, her heels clicking in an almost musical pattern. She sent a wide-eyed look Mustardseed's way, but he was too busy examining the kitchen counter to notice anything else. Henry followed; his back slumped over comically.

Sabrina started for the door, too, but Puck caught her waist easily in one arm, "The poor kid will probably be terrified if he sees all of us mobbing him and Marshmallow. Let's have some _alone _time." He winked suggestively.

Sabrina struggled, trying stupidly to break out of his hold, "I want to see my sister's date, Puck! Let me go!"

Puck chuckled, catching her under the legs and swept her into his arms, "And I want to have some _special _time with my wife. Daphne doesn't need another set of eyes staring at her. She'll tell you all about it once she gets home, Grimm."

"You should stop calling me Grimm," Sabrina's voice was suddenly low; Puck realized that he had somehow carried her into their bedroom…without even thinking. Wasn't there some kind of limit to how oblivious you could be to your surroundings?

"Why?" he set her down gently on the bed, eyeing her growing stomach with a gentle gaze.

"Because we're _married_, idiot," Sabrina lightly smacked his forehead, "I have your last name now." At his confused look, she giggled, "Don't you know that, Mr. I'm-five-hundred-years-old-and-happen-to-be-the-smartest-man-alive?"

Puck glared at his wife, "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Marriage never really mattered to me until Moth and I somehow got engaged—but it wasn't until a few years ago that I figured out marriage was a good thing. You're just one big ball of surprises…Mrs. Goodfellow."

Puck watched in awe as Sabrina's cheeks turned to a light pink shade. Was she…?

"You're blushing," he whispered, sitting down next to her.

"I am not!" she huffed and turned away, but even her ears were turning red.

Puck grinned again, reaching a hand out to cup her chin and turn her face back to his, "You are. And it's cute."

At this point, Sabrina looked like a ripe tomato, "I am _not _cute, Robin Goodfellow! I'm independent, cunning, and sneaky; but I—"

Puck cut her off easily, pressing his lips softly to hers, "Stop talking, Sabrina, you're ruining the atmosphere."

Before she could protest, he tilted their bodies backward into the sheets—and Sabrina didn't utter a harsh word for the rest of the night.

::

Mustardseed felt like bashing his head on the wall. Or ripping Daphne's disgusting date's guts out and using them as a jump rope. There was even the possibility of barging into Puck's room and forcing him to change into an elephant and crush his rival's body to bits.

But the prince had seen the lust-filled look Puck was shooting at Sabrina on their out of the kitchen. The couple was going to be occupied tonight—and he wanted _no _part of that.

He still couldn't get over the shock of seeing Daphne leave with her delicate arm tucked into the giant cad beside her. The guy wasn't even _good looking! _Sure, he was somewhat tall; sure, his eyes were a really bright blue; and sure, he wasn't dressed too badly—but why was she going out with him? Didn't she have morals? Mustardseed felt his anger rear up again; didn't Daphne…_like _him?

He knew she did. Only an idiot could miss the glances she threw at him, the admiration in her eyes. But then, he'd always known that he found her just as attractive. There was _definitely _something between them. Something big.

Mustardseed, the smooth-talker, the representative for all things no-nonsense and rational, was fighting the urge to chase after Daphne and _kiss _some freaking sense into her.

If she liked him so much, why was she betraying him like this?

The answer hit him like a brick to the head.

_She was hurt. _

Mustardseed cursed and punched his palm into the vast softness of his pillow. He hadn't only kindled anger when he'd mentioned an involvement with Moth…he'd also ripped her heart in two. All because he'd made it sound like there was some kind of connection between him and the wicked bitch-princess.

That, he realized with disdain, was the farthest thing from the truth.

"Why am I such an idiot?" he yelled into his hands, "Why do I ruin everything that's important to me?"

"You do seem to have that talent, don't you, darling." A sickeningly sweet voice reached his ears; drawing his attention to the weight pulling across his back.

Moth. She was stroking the planes of his back with her ice-cold fingers.

He whipped around, fairly rocketing off the bed, "What are you doing here, Moth?"

She smiled, letting her perfect white teeth show against dark red-stained lips, "I came to check on your progress, sweetheart! My plan is _very _well thought out, and I won't stand for it to be ruined by my selfish little prince!" her fingers, once again, found his skin; the pale white pads of her thumbs ran softly across his cheek.

He tried with all his might not to recoil. If he was going to save the Grimm family, he was going to have to be an ambassador to her needs—no matter how crazy or ruthless they may be.

"I've done exactly what you asked me to. Sabrina has now ingested about half of your bottle of poison. I am only waiting for your next instruction, _my lady_." The false endearment made his throat constrict in anger.

Moth narrowed her sharp eyes, "Show me the bottle."

"Pardon me, Moth?"

"Don't act innocent," gone was her usual sugary way of speaking; there was nothing but icy fury in her tone, "Show me the bottle of poison. I wouldn't put it past you to lie to me just to protect that little Grimm girl you love so much."

Mustardseed bit back a growl at Moth's mention of Daphne. He needed to calm down, to think rationally. Without speaking, he moved to his oak cabinet where he kept his clothes and plucked out the half-empty glass.

"Here," he thrust it at his unwanted companion, "Halfway empty. Just like I told you."

Moth examined it thoroughly, tilting it to the light and back. Mustardseed sat still, waiting for her to realize that he was speaking the truth.

"Very well," she stood, smoothing out her long dress—this time, the color was a light lavender shade, "Thank you for cooperating. Everything will go much smoother with your help, dear. I'm proud that I'll soon call you my husband."

He winced. She didn't notice; she was too busy thinking of another subject.

"I heard little Grimm has broken things off with you, Mustardseed," Moth's eyes looked smug; "I also heard it had something to do with me."

_Don't let her win. Don't respond. She wants you to get angry and yell. _He nodded, keeping his face blank.

Moth placed a kiss on his lips, smiling, "It's good that she's out of the picture—I have no more annoyances to deal with. And, anyway, Mustardseed, you didn't really deserve her in the first place."

With a flick of her thin wrist, the fae was gone, leaving nothing but an earthy scent behind.

With a grin, Mustardseed clutched the bottle tightly in his hands, "You don't know everything, Moth." He whispered, walking toward the bathroom, "You really don't know anything at all." He watched, smiling, as drops of clear liquid fell in stream into the marble sink, "I'd never hurt Sabrina. You're just too arrogant to notice."

_Maybe it is a good thing Daphne's angry with me…_

It was no secret as to why he couldn't fully convince himself of that fact.

::

"_Bonjour_, _classe_!" Mademoiselle Francis' high-pitched voice sent a wave of irritation through Daphne's mind. Couldn't her teacher be a _little _less energetic at seven thirty in the morning?

Going out on a Sunday night is _never _a good idea. Going out with a guy you barely know who could probably talk anyone's ear off…well, Daphne felt downright idiotic for that one.

The guy had barely shut up; her head was still raging with his squeal of a laugh. She wanted to throw up. Or maybe faint. Or die. Anything was better than feeling like strangling most of the human population.

As if her "date"—which, if she was going to be completely honest with herself, was only a ploy to get Mustardseed jealous—wasn't bad enough; coming back home just added icing to the top of her self-pity cake.

Everyone was asleep. No "welcome home, honey!" no warm smiles, just silence…or so she'd thought. She'd walked into the kitchen to get herself a nice, cold drink—and come face-to-chest with Mustardseed.

That wasn't even the worst part! After the initial shock of colliding into him, her eyes drifted up to his, and then she was being shoved away from him.

"I hope you had _fun_." He snarled, stalking past her up the stairs.

Daphne still felt the sting of his harsh words tearing at her heart. Yes, she was the one who'd started this whole fight…but she hadn't really expected him to _stay _angry.

"Daphne?" her French teacher's long, ironically French-tipped nails came down with a _tap _against her desk.

"_Oui,_ Madame?" Daphne forced herself to stay in the present.

"Can you tell us anything about Napoleon?"

"Napoleon Bonaparte?" Daphne asked stupidly, feeling her face turn a shade of red. _You're in French…and you're studying their history; who else would she be talking about? _

"_Bien sur! _Of course!" Mademoiselle Francis skipped to the front of the room, "Let me write your musings on the chalkboard, _etudiants."_

A red-headed girl next to Daphne raised her hand, "He was a French military leader."

_"Tres bon_," Madame Francis continued, "A gifted strategist and leader, _Monsieur _Bonaparte knew how to keep an entire army under his control with a perfect mix of fear and _amour_."

_Kind of like Moth_. Daphne thought; and then it dawned on her. _Exactly like Moth! _Bonaparte controlled an army with his own deceiving tactics; Moth controlled Mustardseed in the same way. Napoleon was ruthless and continued fighting no matter what—so did Moth. Napoleon wished to conquer the world, and would do anything to achieve his goal, Moth wanted power. She would probably fight to the death.

Something popped into Daphne's head, drawing a gasp from her lips, "Madame?" Her hand shot up, voice urgent.

"_Que_, Daphne?"

"Napoleon was the one who was exiled from regular society after a huge defeat, wasn't he?"

"_Exactement_; he was banished and died in shame from health problems many years later." Madame Francis looked excited that someone was interested in her lesson, "Why did you ask such a question, _cher_?"

Daphne shrugged, already consumed by her own thoughts, "No reason. It just made me curious."

While the rest of her French class tittered away with jokes about the famous conqueror's height; Daphne let her head spin with questions and plans.

The similarities between Moth and Napoleon were too dramatic to be overlooked; there had to be something Daphne could do to stop the evil fae.

_Their confidence._

That was it! Bonaparte was overconfident, which lead to his defeat and, ultimately, his demise. Moth was the same. Her self-confidence was enough to choke a horse. With a little pushing and prodding, Moth would be on a downward spiral toward imprisonment, exile, or maybe…death.

Daphne felt stupid for not realizing it before. This simple, foolproof plan was enough to take down someone who had far more resources and conniving bones in her body than anyone Daphne had ever known.

All she had to do was get Mustardseed to set a trap. And then she remembered—Mustardseed was probably _glad _Moth was so evil. That was the reason they were even this whole goddamned argument; because of her! If Daphne was going to stop this tyranny, she was going to be in it alone.

Like a lone Frenchman standing up to their captor, Daphne Grimm would fight Moth with everything she had in her. No matter what the cost.

_Mon Dieu!_

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**Okay, I know the end was a little...confusing, but trust me, I know what I'm doing. I think ;) Anyway, REVIEW and be comforted that the next chapter will be out every soon! **_  
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**J'aime tous mes lecteurs étonnantes, belles plus que la vie elle-même! (Google it)**


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